


Thorn's Edge of Beauty

by PandoraAbyss



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Gods, Angst, Chrom/OCs, Concubine AU, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Racism against Plegia, Sexism, Slow Burn, Smut, onesided Severa/Lucina
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-01-12 13:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18447143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandoraAbyss/pseuds/PandoraAbyss
Summary: Lucina, the crowned princess in a long line of Exalts, finds herself in-between a rock and a hard place when the royal council insists on her ensuring a heir with her one concubine. They take her objections in a different turn - that is, automatically assuming she means she wants a female concubine instead of a male one.Robin is a runaway - she wants to escape the life that's told her she's supposed to die for Grima's sake on her eighteenth birthday. With complications, she ends up going to Ylisse to stay for a few days while waiting for her ticket to be smuggled to Valm. So of course, she ends up becoming a royal concubine to the Princess.There's no way a princess from Ylisse would fall in love with such a selfish woman like her...right?





	1. A Runaway and a Princess

The Exalt was a legendary figure in the history of Ylisse. It’s said that the Exalted line was blessed by Naga herself. It’s said that she gifted her bloodline and left behind a brand to mark who is worthy of taking the throne and use the ancient weapon Falchion. The legends say that as long as one of the Exalted line was on the throne, Ylisse would forever be prosperous.

After the second Exalt took the throne, their heir became deathly ill. The situation was dire, to the point where no cleric could find a cure. With the Exalt’s partner dead, the people, the Exalt, and the council feared that no one of the holy bloodline would be able to take the throne.

So the council came to a decision.

The Exalt would be gifted lovers – just a few – who would help them sire a few more heirs. That way, one of them would have the brand and if the young crowned heir died, they would still have someone who could take the throne.

Regrettably, the young heir did die young and another heir, birthed from one of the lovers the Exalt had taken by advice of the council, took the throne. They were then met with awkward questions about the lovers the previous Exalt had taken. What to do with them? What to do with the other children the lovers had helped give birth to? And should the current Exalt take lovers as well?

History isn’t written to give the smallest details, nor is it taught unbiased. Most of the time, it’s told that there was a problem and then immediately give the solution. The people of Ylisse now don’t know that at the time, it was a large topic of debate after the third Exalt had taken the throne. Nor do they know that it took nearly a full year before a conclusion was reached.

It was decided – an Exalt and their branded children would take some lovers to ensure an heir was available at the time of the Exalt’s death. It would be until another two Exalts before they write down ways these lovers, in the end, called concubines, to be compensated and cared for even after the Exalt was dead.

Later on, it would come that concubines exist not only to give heirs, but also for the Exalt’s own pleasure. And, of course, it would come that the Exalt doesn’t take just one or two, but usually around five.

Now years have passed, wars fought, both won and lost. The second war between Ylisse and Plegia passed with the assassination of the Exalt Emmeryn. Emmeryn who, regretfully, died while pregnant with her first child, leaving behind no heir to take the throne. Her younger brother, Chrom, took the throne, which made his young five year old, Lucina, the crowned princess.

 

Now, fifteen years have passed. Ylisse and Plegia lived in a form of tense harmony due to their treaty after the second war. Yet, the topic of Ylisse wasn’t something Plegia was interested in especially not right now. Instead, they were focused on a major event – the birthday of their Sacrifice.

 

The day was leading into chilled air, sending a small breeze through the open window of Robin’s room. She kept her gaze out the window – longing – as the sun began to set over the horizon. She clutched her pillow to her chest, hazed, as the chatter of the excited servants in front of her was practically going in one ear and out the other. She imagined herself running towards the sun, not stopping until she could finally feel what it’s like to be away from responsibilities. To be free. To choose something for _herself_ —

“Lady Robin, what color would you like to wear?”

The question shocked her out of her fantasy. Slowly, she turned back to the beaming servants, who had just placed dresses down. They were…beautiful, she’d admit. Far more beautiful than most dresses she would wear, even for parties. They were the same dress, with high golden collars attached to V-neck straps that ended with a golden jewel that’s supposed to be over her cleavage. The skirt of the dress flowed down, and were long enough to pool on the ground.

Yet, their beauty were soured knowing they were only made for her to die in.

She was silent a moment too long. The smiles of the servants started to seem a bit more fixed as one pushed, “Lady Robin? Please make a choice.”

Her gaze flickered between them, then back to the dresses. She pointed to one – the red one – without much care, and kept her expression as neutral as possible. The servants beamed once again. Obviously, they had decided to ignore how out of it she was.

With a flourish, they took away the dresses, placing the others in a pile and leaving the red alone.

“Perfect! We’ll get this ready with the rest of the outfit!”

They left chattering amongst themselves. Robin allowed herself to finally scowl.

She supposed they would find her death a _good_ thing and expected her to feel the same. But why the _hell_ would she?

Tomorrow, she would turn eighteen.

And tomorrow, she would be sacrificed to their Lord, Grima.

She stood from her bed, tossing her pillow to the side. For a moment, she glanced at her door, silently debating with herself, before quickly going over to lock it. After double checking, she headed to her closet and took out a hefty travel bag. The bottom of it was lined with a few of her favorite books already, as well as a couple of light clothes.

Silently, with a determined frown on her face, she began filling the bag with clothes, blatantly avoiding the fancier things. Taking it would just make her easier to recognize, even if she did sell them.

Tonight, she would run.

It’s not as if she didn’t love Plegia. She _did_. And she would miss it terribly. She loved the blistering hot days and freezing nights. She loved the local taverns and the shops and the _people_ …

But why the hell should she stay in a place that’s told her, from since she was old enough to comprehend it, that she would one day die without a choice?

So, she’ll run. And won’t look back.

(That was a lie. She’d definitely look back. And part of her would wonder if it was worth it. Lesser people would die for their country. People went to _war_ for her country.

Why was _she_ so selfish? Why did she think she had the _privilege_ of breaking tradition?

What a terrible person she was.)

 

A few hours went by, and Robin had closed her window as it had officially gotten too cold to keep it open. Her packed bag was stuffed back into her closet. As the time ticked closer and closer to when she was supposed to leave, her blood rushed with anxiety. Currently, she wore her simple night gown and brushed her hair in front of her mirror, trying to seem like it was a regular night even if no one was there. She just had to look as if she was merely getting ready for bed.

She was usually up late anyway. What’s a few more hours, waiting for all the lights to turn off and for the perfect time to leave?

A knock made her jump.

For a moment, she scrambled to stand and placed her hairbrush down on her messy table. It clattered with the disarray of cosmetics and creams that she hadn’t bothered to clean from earlier when she was looking for things to throw in her bag. She glanced around the room – on surface level, nothing really seemed out of place, yet she still felt nervous. Someone who _knew_ her would feel how the area seemed cleaner than normal. They’d _tell_ that her book case was missing her favorite books. That there were things plucked from places. Maybe they’d even be able to tell that her closet was emptier than normal.

“Come in,” she brushed nonexistent dirt from her gown. Despite herself, her hands shook.

Slowly, the door opened, letting in a flash of light from a candle. Robin could see the face of her sister, Aversa, at the door. Her hair cascaded down her back, far more elegant than the curled, messy state Robin’s own hair was usually in if she didn’t brush it religiously. She was clearly ready for bed, wearing a simple gown, though tighter and cut to be shorter. Robin had to hold back a fond smirk, imagining the blush of the servants she must have passed by.

Instead of teasing like her expressions normally were, Aversa had a strange smile – an almost awkwardly comforting one. Like she wasn’t exactly sure what to say to her.

“Hey,” she closed the door behind her.

Robin figured it was better than saying nothing.

“Hey,” she clasped her hands behind her back, trying to hide how badly they were shaking.

It was one thing, lying to servants and to her Father, but to Aversa? More than anything, she was a better tactician than her and better at reading any situation thrown in her direction. She would see right through her in an instant.

Robin watched, calculated, as Aversa placed her candle down and moved to sit on her bed.

“I – well I came to…you know. Check on you. You’ve been…distant all day.”

“You know, there were a bunch of…decisions to be made. All day. Last minute plans and all” And packing. More packing than she expected.

“You can talk to me,” Aversa pushed, her light brown eyes searched her face. Robin made sure to look away. “I know I’m not the _best_ at the…comforting thing. But, I can try.”

 _No, you’re not._ Was what Robin _wanted_ to say, but she kept her lips firmly shut. She loved Aversa, she really did. And she’d miss her. She really would. But Aversa was a sorceress first, a tactician second, and a “loving” sister _distant_ third. How could she trust her enough to really _talk_ to her about how she knows she’s going to die? Hell, Robin’s lost count of how many times she ratted her out to their Father and ignored her suffering to help herself. Why would now be any different?

“…I’m fine,” She said instead, turning to the mirror. She twirled a lock of her hair between her fingers, more than aware of Aversa’s eyes locked on her back. “I’m turning eighteen. Who wouldn’t be excited?”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me, Robin. You’re _dying_ tomorrow.”

“For our country. For our Lord, Grima.” The words were easier than they felt. It was the same as when she was ten, sitting in the library, repeating what her father told her. _“One day, I will die for the sake of prosperity. I will die for my country. I will die for Grima.”_

Back then, she hardly knew what half those words really meant.

Aversa frowned and crossed one leg over the other.

“You think I’ll fall for _that_ too?”

Robin whirled to face her directly, scowling. “What do you _want_ me to say?” She snapped, “I’m turning eighteen. I’m dying tomorrow. I’m going to have a huge party where everyone will congratulate me. And then Father will lay me on the table and carve an eye into my stomach and _stab_ me in the _heart_ as I _scream_.” She was shaking. Aversa had stood, but she ignored her. “What do you _want me to say_? That I’m scared? Of course I’m scared! Terrified! I don’t want to –” A sob escaped her.

“…Aversa…I don’t _want_ to.”

She was pulled into firm arms. Her sobs were muffled in Aversa’s chest, and she clutched at her gown like she was five again looking to her sister for the affection their Father never gave and their mother was never there to give.

“…I know. It’ll be okay. It’ll all be okay.” Aversa muttered into her hair and rubbed her back.

( _I’ll miss Aversa the most._ She decided, firmly. She’d write her letters every day, even if she could never send them. She’d think of her whenever she’d see a black dress, a dark tome, a sharp knife, a book of tactics. They weren’t ever really sisters – they never had the luxury – but maybe in another life they could have. And she’d wish those two a better life than she would ever hope to have.)

 

Gaius was late.

The moon was already high in the sky and Robin could tell just from past experience that it was far past midnight and it had passed an hour from when Gaius insisted he would be there. She had granted him several different ways to sneak into the castle and up to her room and, knowing him, he had already known about ten others she didn’t know existed.

She felt almost silly, dressed in her travel clothes, and still debating whether or not to take her robe with her.

It was too obvious. It made her too noticeable. Yet…it was her Mother’s. She had enchanted it magically herself. And told her Father that she wanted _her_ to have it. There was no way she could just leave it behind.

By time she changed from a regular black cloak to the robe, she heard it against her door. Three soft knocks. A pause. Two taps.

She immediately leapt up from her bed, grabbing her bag and opening the door.

Despite her having blown out all the candles an hour ago, leaving only the moonlight, Robin could still make out his striking red hair and easygoing smile. A sharp sweet smell came from him – he always did smell like he had robbed a candy store minutes before coming to visit her. She wanted to hug him even though it had been less than 24 hours since they had last seen each other.

“Where the hell have you been?” She said instead, as she tried to keep her voice a soft whisper. She glared at him even though he probably wouldn’t even see it properly in the dark anyway.  

“I had things to do. Supplies to get. People to contact.” He huffed, stepping back as she stepped out of her room. “Getting someone to make sure there’s a path between borders is harder than you think. Things are still pretty tense. Some people think another war is going to break out at this rate.”

Robin rolled her eyes despite herself.

“People _always_ think a war is going to break out.”

“It’s a valid fear now,” he began walking, his footsteps fast yet somehow so _silent_ , like a whisper of the breeze. In comparison, she felt clunky and loud in her boots – and wondered how he could manage to do it so well. “After all, their _key to prosperity_ is running off with a thief.”

“Oh shut up,” She smacked his back. He was joking, yet a hostile fear still gripped at her throat. _Selfish girl_.

He didn’t see through her anxiety. But, she caught a glimpse of his smirk as they passed an open window, illuminated by the moonlight. It was comforting enough that she couldn’t help but hand a small smile back to him.

The manor is strange at night. The last time Robin could remember walking around even near midnight was when she had just turned six and shakily walked along the walls, one arm wrapped around her favorite pillow while the other held a candle. She had walked from her room, softly crying, to Aversa’s. She could remember being afraid of approaching her Father for having a nightmare. Even when she was young she knew he would never give her the comfort she wanted. Aversa would only sleepily give her space, let her cuddle against her to fall asleep, and then not speak about what happened the next morning. She supposed, back then, that’s what she wanted even though it wasn’t really what she needed.

Gaius led her down a staircase and stopped at the last step. She heard him starting to feel around the wall in the darkness. Immediately, she knew exactly what he was doing. This exit was known very well by most people in the manor. She didn’t know about it because she used it herself, but because of the history it had from the past Plegian wars. It was mostly used as a secret way for servants to sneak in and out usually with messages and to hide from enemy forces.

Nowadays, it was just used as a way for lovers to meet in secret, if you believe the rumors.

There was only one window at the step – beaming over them so he would only see a few bricks. Robin frowned and reached over, easily pressing against a brick that gave under her soft but firm touch, pushing in and silently opening the passage.

“Nice job,” Gaius said, and slipped in with her before the passage could close.

It was _freezing_ , immediately hitting them both with a blast of cold air, though the chill was welcoming enough that Robin only sighed in relief. As they stepped outside, Robin’s heart felt as if it wanted to jump right out of her chest. She kept her eyes firmly on Gaius’s back as he speed walked through the shadows and easily avoided the steps of the guards and soldiers.

And, like that, they were free.

(Maybe Robin cried a little as the manor dimmed in the distance, as every step led them closer to the border, and every second felt like flying. Like freedom.

Freedom tasted salty on her lips. She decided it was the best taste in the world.)

 

“So everything is handled, right?”

They were an hour or two away from the border. Robin could feel exhaustion starting to seep into her bones. They had even slowed down a little, as the air started to get warmer the closer they got.

Gaius paused for a moment. Then, sheepishly, said, “Ah…not… _exactly_.”

“…what the _hell_ do you mean?” She took a few longer strides to get next to him.

He grimaced. “Listen, it’s a _lot_ harder to smuggle people to Valm than you’d think. Things _are_ apparently getting pretty dicey over there. And rumors say they’re planning to bring war to Ylisse after Chon’sin is completely taken over. A _lot_ of people don’t like dealing with wars, especially if traders are going to get in the middle of them.”

“What the _fuck_ does that _mean_ , then? I can’t get to Valm?”

“You _will,_ but it’s going to take a bit longer than I originally thought,” his voice was kept smooth and easygoing, but she knew by the fact that he wasn’t directly looking at her that he did feel a bit guilty. “So we’re going to stay in Ylisse for a few days. I’ll get everything arranged and then you’ll get to leave.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” She said under her breath. The two of them? In Ylisse? Sure, Gaius had wandered around a lot, so he’s used to being a stranger in a foreign place. But she had never stepped outside Plegian borders in her _life_. She’d be seen as suspicious at every turn. Would someone in Ylisse know enough about Plegian culture to know who she was? What she’s supposed to do? Send her _back_ —?

A hand on her shoulder stopped her racing mind. Gaius was looking down at her, his eyes were soft. “For once, Bubbles? Stop thinking. You’re going to be fine. About a week from now, you’re going to be in Valm, starting a new life.”

“Right.” She took a deep breath, nodding. “…R-Right. I’ll be in Valm and…away from all of this.”

“Should we stop to rest?”

“…no. I’m fine. I can handle another few hours.”

“ _You_ can. But _I_ want to make sure we don’t collapse at the city entrance.” Gaius plopped down at a tree, ignoring how her mouth dropped open.

“We’re going _directly_ to the fucking city?” She refused to sit down, even as Gaius frowned at her.

“It’s big enough that it’s hard to keep track of every little thing everyone is doing. And if I’m going to smuggle you to Valm in total secrecy, we don’t need to attract attention. If I take you to a smaller town, _everyone_ will remember the two strangers that stayed for a few days.”

“We both have Plegian blood,” She scowled and sat next to him, “We’ll attract attention anyway.”

“Not as much as you think. Just stay out of trouble, okay?”

She grumbled something fairly nonsensical, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.

 

(How hard could it be to keep her head down and out of trouble?)

~

Mornings in Ylisstol was the best, the quietest and, in Lucina’s opinion, a perfect time to wake up when you want a moment of pure peace. She often spent her early mornings, right when the sun is rising, sitting at the balcony that faces east. It wasn’t surprising that it was most likely built just for peaceful mornings like this

Lucina loved her country.

The obligations and stresses of being the crowned princess definitely didn’t overrule that love.

Yet, even now, with her eyes on the sun just starting to creep over the trees, she could already feel the headache coming as her mind wandered to her daily schedule. The servants would begin ushering her to her duties. The clang of swords on the training grounds as she yells out orders and instructions to the recruits would ring in her ears for hours. The insistent nagging of the council as they urged her into getting herself an _heir_.

The thought made her grimace she didn’t even realize she had placed a hand over her stomach.

She wasn’t the motherly type. Or, at the very least, she couldn’t _imagine_ herself sitting for _nine months_ as a tiny human grew inside her. Then, being forced to rest for another couple of months, away from her sword, and away from other responsibilities. How the hell did other mothers do it? How did _her_ mother do it? _Twice_?

Yet she was expected to do it _multiple_ times for the sake of an heir, in case she or her child died young.

That was one of the only things she hated, being a princess. Being told that one day she’ll _have_ to be pregnant. None of her friends had to deal with the same thing. Some of them she was pretty sure planned to opt out of marriage entirely. In fact, she was pretty sure Severa had even sworn off having a child from a pregnancy because it would get in the way of her training.

Having that option felt something short of a dream.

The sun began to rise higher, she sighed to herself.  The first person opened their window, letting in the fresh air. The earliest of risers began opening their doors, cleaning up, getting ready to face the day and start their work.

Lucina let out a soft sigh, standing to stretch and head to her room to change.

_Time to face the day._

 

Lucina’s days are often completely packed with things she has to do. After breakfast, she’s immediately at the training grounds with the recruits before training with her friends. Sometimes she’ll visit the Pegasus knights, often to check on her sister, before heading back in to deal with her studies or join her father and mother with the council. Sometimes, she’ll even be given paperwork and other various duties as her father was slowly allowing her to take more responsibilities in preparation for becoming an Exalt.

Today, she would have a short time with the recruits and hardly any time for personal training as her Father and Mother were away in Regna Ferox with other Shepherds. Something about visiting some old friends and checking up on something important. She hadn’t dug too deep for the details at the time, but now she wished she had asked more and maybe even begged to go with them.

It was maybe selfish. But she _really_ didn’t want to deal with the council.

 

There are ten members of the council that do not include the royal members – aka Lucina’s Father, her Mother, and technically her. Each member were handpicked at a mix of her Father’s and her late Aunt’s choosing, based on their knowledge of politics, the common people, and Ylissean history. They’re _supposed_ to be a form of extra wisdom to the Exalted family. They’re _supposed_ to be extra minds to debate ideas with. Yet, Lucina found quite a few of them particularly seemed to enjoy using their power and trying to push their own agendas onto her father whenever they thought they could slip by.

Council meetings are _long_ , going over many topics and news that take either much debate or hardly anything at all to handle. She knew, intellectually, that council meetings _are_ necessary for the development of the kingdom and are as important as any peace talk or writing of a treaty.

 _Yet_ , she couldn’t help but be like her Father – craving a sword in her hand and _acting_ , not sitting to talk about it.

At first, the meeting seemed to be going well. Lucina sat in her chair, directly to the left of the Exalt’s chair at the head of the table. The _empty_ Exalt’s chair, which she kept glancing towards, wishing her father was sitting there. She wished he was here to glance back at her with the same bored expression in a moment of complete understanding that they usually have at these meetings.

She tried to seem even a little alert and even a little interested as one council member read off the numbers and reports of the harvest and their stores of food.

Honestly? All Lucina could tell was that things seemed to be going well, which did make her happy for her people.

Then, once the council member sat down, _Lord Zelvester_ , stood.

Already, Lucina could feel herself pale and her palms sweat at the sight of his silver eyes boring right into her. He was the main council member in charge of more internal, political affairs in the palace. So, he’s personally responsible for all the concubines as well as looking over them, keeping track of them, and especially keeping track of which have given the royal family children.

He’s the reason Brady was moved from his mother’s manor to the concubine section of the castle.

“As you all know,” he began in a smooth, soft tone that subconsciously made everyone lean in, “we have a rich history of concubines and children born from concubines in the royal family. We’ve been more than gracious – even gifting Princess Lucina, with a _prestigious_ one. After all, not many in the Exalted have a concubine directly from a noble family.”

“And I thank you for that,” she said carefully, suspicious to _where_ he could possibly be taking this. “Brady is a trusted friend and I’m happy to have someone I can…” she cleared her throat, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks, “…confide in.”

“You’re welcome, Princess. Yet, please excuse my frankness as I ask, why are you not yet pregnant?”

Lucina bit the inside of her mouth, holding in a surprised, horrified scream.

“Now, now, Lord Zelvester,” another council member spoke up with a chuckle, though a nervous edge was in their voice, “we don’t _know_ if she’s pregnant or not.”

“ _Actually_ , we do,” With an easy flourish, he took a familiar few pieces of parchment tied together with a ribbon out from the sleeve of his robes. Lucina squinted as she tried to process what it was. Her eyes widened in horror and absolute _familiarity_ just as he began to unravel it. “This is a record from Lady Lissa _herself_ about the health of our Princess.”

Lucina’s hand gripped the seat of her chair. She felt like she could rip it if she really wanted to. As the royal healer, along with Libra, Lissa usually does bi-monthly check ups on not only her and Cynthia, but often the concubines and her friends as well. Then, afterwards, she keeps very concise records of their health. Just to make sure nothing was out of place.

“…she let you have that?” She forced herself to keep her voice leveled. “That’s private information. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be happy if you took it.”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t _take_ it,” he gave her a “pleasant” smile that made her stomach churn. “Prince Masayuki _happily_ handed it over to me, and since he’s as good, if not better, than Lady Lissa herself. I’m pretty sure his word counts, correct?”

Lucina felt her face burn.

Masayuki is her older half-brother by just a few years, born from her father’s first concubine in a _complicated_ time, when it was thought that her Mother was infertile. She’s not particularly close to him, and he’s usually holed up in his office studying healing magic. Why would he just hand out her personal health information so easily? What was he _thinking_?

“So, if there are no problems,” Zelvester cleared his throat before he read aloud, “’ _Lucina has shown no sign of pregnancy or signs of having sexual intercourse. This trend has gone on for months and, from her word, possibly won’t happen for a long time. Note to wait for her own input on when she’s going to have sex to start looking for any abnormalities.’”_

He looked up at her like he had gotten her in _check_ at chess. She could still feel the hot burn of shame, embarrassment, and _anger_ on her face.

“Well? Would you like to give us an explanation, Princess?”

 _Frankly, no._ She wanted to answer, though bit her bottom lip. All of the council members were staring at her, and once again she wished her Father or Mother were here to help her.

“Are you unhappy with the concubine we’ve given you? A concubine is there for you to have a child with or to fulfill your desires. Is your concubine not fulfilling you?”

“That’s not… _it_ ,” she said through gritted teeth. _Gods,_ how was she supposed to make them even understand that she hasn’t even been particularly interested in _having_ sex in the first place? “You see,” she started slowly, trying to piece every word correctly, “I guess I haven’t _found_ what desire I want, and being with a man hasn’t particularly made me find it.”

“So you don’t _want_ to be with a man?” A council member leaned over to her.

She flushed and sputtered, “Well, I’m – I’m not _sure_ —”

“That’s easy enough to fix,” another interjected, now focused on the smug Zelvester, “that just means you can find her a woman concubine, correct?”

“Wait –what?” She sputtered, staring at all of them. Though now they weren’t focused on her, but talking amongst each other.

“Of course, it’ll be easy,” Zelvester now sat, though looked as if he’d _won_ somehow. “As per usual, I can send out the guards—”

“How many woman should be choosen from? Not too many I’m sure—”

“It _should_ be easy to find _someone_ —”

Lucina felt the blood drain from her face.

 

Oh no.

~

Robin and Gaius arrived in Ylisse later in the morning. People were bustling around busy streets and letting children run around in their version of play. They had only spent about two hours resting, so now Robin could admit to herself that she was _exhausted_. For once, between her and Gaius, he actually seemed just fine, merely glancing around the city as nonchalantly as if they were walking around Plegia.

The first thing Robin noticed was how it wasn’t as _hot_ as walking around in her home city. It felt like the type of weather just when the sun is going down and it was starting to get colder. It was comfortable, yet still felt strange when the sun was still beaming right down on them. The buildings were tall, and as were shuffling about, it just seemed so _lively._

Though Robin could swear from the moment they walked into the city that she could feel eyes watching her directly. She couldn’t help but force her tired, screaming muscles to move faster, trying to keep up with Gaius’s longer legs.

 _Stupid tall people_.

“…how often have you travelled here?” She said, trying to distract herself from the feeling that floating, judging eyes were staring and watching her every move. Like someone – _multiple_ people were undressing her with merely their stares.

Gaius hummed. “Ah…more than just a couple times. I don’t know the city like the back of my hand like I do in Plegia, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“So…you know where you’re going, right?”

He chuckled, reaching over and ruffling her hair with little warning. She yelped, jumping away to fix her pigtails, sending a glare as he laughed.

“Are you just going to question my judgement the entire time on this trip?”

“Maybe.”

He shook his head before he stopped in front of a building she quickly realized was an inn, nonchalantly walking right inside. Inside was just as lively as outside, reminding her of days when events were going on in the city. It took her a moment to remember it was close to lunch, which was probably why it was so busy. Out of habit, she kept a hand over her coin pouch, even though she was pretty sure no other thief except Gaius would be close by.

Almost like he noticed her hesitate, Gaius easily approached the counter, taking out his coin bag. The man glanced up, raising an eyebrow as he placed down a few gold coins. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked between the two of them.

“My sister and I need a room for the next few days. This should cover it, right?”

The man looked it over, then he nodded slowly. He let out a gruff, “just about,” before slipping under the table to take out a key. “One room for you both? Two beds?”

Gaius grinned, taking the key from him easily. “That’ll be perfect.”

The room was on the first floor and was fairly simple. It had two beds pushed against opposite walls, and a window perched on the wall in the middle of them both, out to an alleyway. As Robin put down her bag and let herself collapse face-first onto the left bed, Gaius went over to the window, opening it and poking his head out.

“Perfect. This leads directly to the main street if we need to escape.” He closed it again.

“Why would we even need to?” She slowly sat up, shrugging off her robe.

“Depends. Anything could go wrong,” he crossed his arms, looking over to her as she began to pull her hair out of the pigtails, giving her a bit of a smug grin. “Finally tired?”

“We walked for most of the night,” She said him, kicking off her shoes.

“We _did_ , but I bet a hundred gold coins that you stayed up for two or three days before this, right?”

She fixed him with a glare, her cheeks growing hot in embarrassment that he read her so _easily_. In a swift moment, she ran her hand through her hair, then threw a stiff pillow at him. Usually he could easily dodge, but instead he laughed and let it hit his chest. He picked it up easily and tossed it back on the bed she had claimed.

“It’s probably a good idea for you to rest anyway. You’ll just get really bored staying here alone for hours.”

“You’re going somewhere?” The thought of being left alone made her alert immediately. He just waved a hand nonchalantly.

“I need to figure out just how long it’s going to take until I can get you to Valm. My contact has someone here I can talk to, but it’s just going to take a while to find them. _And_ if I go there with you, they’ll get…antsy. Probably won’t give me the full story.”

“Sounds shady,” she yawned, laying down. “…but fine. How long will you take?”

“Not too long. I should be back in time to get us both something to eat.” With a gentle hand, he reached over to squeeze her hand lightly. She gave him a sleepy smile in return. “Don’t get into trouble, okay, Bubbles?”

She rolled her eyes, though felt the tug of exhaustion pulling on her eyelids. She hummed, finally succumbing to her exhaustion.

He chuckled and slowly pulled away.

She was asleep before the door even closed.

(But even in her dreams, she was an ugly state of confusion – her mind in shambles. It showed confusing images – of how they found her room empty. How they ran around in despair for the years to come. How her Father’s anger, explosive, how he destroyed everything in his path. How Aversa scowled and cleaned the blade of her lance, calling for driving it through her heart for betraying them all.

In the end, she didn’t get much restful sleep at all.)

 

Insistent knocking woke her up – and she immediately knew it couldn’t have been very long since Gaius had left. Besides, she was _certain_ that wasn’t their knock. She glared at the door, rubbing her eyes, debating whether or not to actually open it. Who the hell could it even be?

Whoever it was knocked again, seemingly even _louder_ and more persistent than a second ago.

“It’s the royal guard! By order of the Council, you must open this door!”

The words made blood drain from Robin’s face. She immediately scrambled out of bed, grabbing her robe and throwing it on, then she hurried to put on her boots. Why the hell was the _royal guard_ pounding on her door? Where was Gaius? Did someone figure out who she was and told them to bring her back to Plegia?

The sounded like death to her ringing ears. It sounded like Grima was at her door, demanding her life. She threw her bag back over her shoulder and looked desperately at the window. It was a little high, but definitely big enough for her to fit through.

With hardly a glance back to the door, she threw open the window and pulled herself up to climb out of it, trying to ignore how her hair tickled at her cheeks. She had no time to tie it back up.

Below, luckily, were a set of crates that were probably filled with junk. Once she had one leg over the window, she stepped down on top of it. Then, she turned to pull her bag through the window, planning to run to the main street like Gaius had mentioned before –

-but her bag caught on the edge of the window.

“Really?! Now?!” Tears formed in the edge of her eyes as she pulled on her bag strap. The knocking had gone silent, but now she could hear the faint jiggle of someone trying a key in the lock.

_Shit, shit, shit!_

With all of her strength, she _yanked_ the strap, losing her balance, and nearly falling off the crate she was standing on.

That’s when the door opened.

She caught the silver glint of Ylissean armor, as well as two soldiers, their expressions were pinched in annoyance. Then, their eyes met, and the pair of eyes widened as adrenaline and fear pumped into her system. Without any delay, she turned and jumped off the crate, nearly spraining her ankle in the process. She bolted to the end of the alleyway in the direction where she _hoped_ the main street was and _prayed_ Gaius was somewhere safe. She planned to look for him later. Now, all she needed to do was _run_.

“Wait, stop!” Voices called out to her as she got closer to the end of the alleyway. She could hear the swift sound of someone jumping out the window – perhaps _far_ more graceful than her – before footsteps quickly followed her and gained at rapid speed.

 _Dammit! Why the hell did Grima curse me with short legs?!_ She nearly screamed aloud. The end of the alley had people in the way, so she _burst_ through, ignoring the startled, feminine screams.

She expected a bustling street filled with people going about their day for her to duck into and easily make the guards lose sight of her. Yet, to her horror, she found herself completely out in the open, _more_ guards staring right at her. They all seemed to form a circle, and other people were watching in. In the middle of this circle, a tall man with piercing silver eyes and long, dark hair stared her down, with an eyebrow raised.

_Oh shit._

“And what’s this?” The smooth, cold voice reminded her far too much of “ _home_.” She kept a steady glare as he approached her slowly. “Another candidate?”

“A-Another…?” She stared. _What the hell is going on?_

“S-Sir!” One of the soldiers that was chasing her earlier came out from the alleyway. Now that she looked, she realized there was a gathered crowd of what could have been perhaps twenty or so women all around Robin’s age. She looked through them, frowning – what were they gathering women for? Was an event happening that she stumbled in on?

As she tried to poke at her brain to remember Ylissean customs, the solider approached her, and grabbed her arm.

“Ow!” She tried to pull away, but that only made him squeeze harder.

“Lord Zelvester, sir, this woman tried to run away when we got to her room in the inn.”

“Did she now?” The man, “Lord Zelvester,” obviously some form of leader of all the soldiers here, had his eyes focused entirely on her. His eyes moved downwards, and she couldn’t help an involuntarily shiver as they settled on her cleavage for a half a second. He was clearly stripping her with only his eyes. She felt like bugs had started crawling up her skin. Then, he sneered. “ _Plegian_ , aren’t you? You’re quite a beauty for someone of such _barbaric_ upbringing.”

“And what makes Ylisse any better than Plegia? Besides, you know I’m not from here, so whatever you’re doing doesn’t involve me.” She snapped, trying to wrestle her arm out from the soldier’s grip. “May I go back to my nap now?”

Zelvester stared at her, like he was calculating something particularly important. Then, he gave her an awfully nasty smirk that made her stomach curl with disgust. “Oh you can,” He reached over to pat her cheek. She held back the urge to bite him, “but I think it would be best for you to do so at the _palace_.”

Robin could _feel_ everyone’s shock. They stared at her with open jaws and most of the women gathered seemed _jealous_. Why the hell were they _jealous_?! She was obviously going to be taken to the dungeon! Arrested, because she had done nothing but be confused at some strange Ylissean event! At least Gaius would break her out easily and they could get the hell out of Ylisstol. Though she was sure he’d _never_ let her live this down.

“S-Sir?” The solider holding onto her had his mouth agape like he didn’t know exactly what to do. Zelvester only waved a hand.

“Come now, release her. I’m sure the Princess won’t appreciate having her new concubine covered in bruises.”

Robin’s brain short circuited, like someone had aimed _Lightning_ a bit too close to her head. She stared between them all. It was her turn for her mouth to drop open as the solider slowly let go, but now began to almost _gently_ push her in the direction of the palace gates.

 

(Leave it to her to be in Ylisstol for less than a day and end up getting turned into the Princess’s pet toy.)


	2. Anger and Guilt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly...I will admit I had this chapter done weeks ago I just wanted to make sure it was perfect before I posted it.

After the council meeting Lucina was fuming. From the moment they decided, while _completely_ ignoring her, to get her a new concubine, she’s been unsure what exactly to do with herself. They basically sent her on her way as if she had no say in the matter - and the most frustrating part? She _didn’t_.

Lord Zelvester immediately left to round up multiple guards and go find some poor, unlucky woman. What should she even do in this situation? What _could_ she do?

She knew what she _wanted_ to do.

Her steps wove a flaming path through the castle. She made a beeline towards the medical wing where Lissa’s, Libra’s, and _Masayuki’s_ offices were. Since they were in a time of peace, it was mostly empty. Her footsteps echoed through the hallways and she stopped in front of his office. For once, she didn’t bother to knock and opened the door.

“Masayuki!”

Like she expected, he was sitting at his desk with one hand holding open a page in a medical book and the other held a quill over a notebook.

For a long time, people have told her that she looks like her father or people are reminded of him when they speak to her. For Masayuki, she always felt as if he was the splitting image of his mother. His skin was paler than her own, which she could only assume it was from how long he spent in his office. He wore a mix of both Ylissean and Chon’sin clothing which had a part at his stomach to show his brand and his long, silky black hair flowed down to his waist. 

Only one thing was strikingly similar between them; his eyes were a sharp blue and the exact same color as her father’s. The difference, though, was that her father’s was a warm blue like a deep sky yet Masayuki’s reminded her of pure ice. Those cold eyes looked up at her completely unimpressed.

“Do you have a problem?” He said, now looking at his book as he smoothed out the page, “Did you bump into something and break an arm? Did you trip, fall, and bruise yourself? Are you hurt in _any_ way?”

She sputtered, completely taken aback by the questions. Her anger was nearly shot and died by the suddenness alone, “No, but—”

“Then _why_ ,” he looked back up at her, “are you interrupting me? I’m in the middle of something and you _know_ I don’t like to be disturbed.”

“I’m not a servant you can just turn away,” she matched his coldness, “and you _know_ why I’m here,” She stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. With a few quick strides she was directly in front of him. “I just came back from a council meeting, where _Lord Zelvester_ told me that _you_ gave him my _very private_ health files.”

“Ah,” He merely sighed, as if what she said was a minimal hassle at best. He went back to his book. Once again, he started to write, “ _That’s_ what you’re upset about? I don’t see the problem.”

Lucina’s blood boiled to the point where she could swear she was seeing red. He had betrayed her trust, was _incredibly_ rude, and now he was just _ignoring_ her?

She slammed a hand on the desk. The wood rattled. A couple papers went astray and the bottle of ink next to his hand fell over and splattered over his notebook and clothes. He quickly stood as if he was burned.

“Look what you’ve done! I worked for _hours_ to write all of that—!”

“You _told_ Lord Zelvester I wasn’t pregnant and wasn’t having – having…” she sputtered over the word, her face flushed. Even through her anger, she couldn’t make herself say _it._

He rolled his eyes and snapped, “If you’re going to _yell_ at me, you might as well say the word. Go on! Say that you aren’t _fucking_ your concubine.”

“Masayuki!”

“That’s my name, yes,” he said impatiently, “And no, I didn’t _tell him_ anything. He read it from the file itself.”

“And he shouldn’t have been able to! Didn’t Aunt Lissa tell you that no one looks at the files except for you, her, and Uncle Libra?!”

“ _Unless_ it’s an emergency,” he opened his desk drawer and took out a towel. With careful movements, he began to dab away the ink on his desk. “And Lord Zelvester explicitly told me that it was an emergency.”

“Who are you to decide that? It was about _me_. Shouldn’t you have asked _me_ first?” Her voice shook. She was pretty sure she’d never been angrier at someone she was supposed to consider _family_.

Masayuki’s expression was one of complete apathy. He only looked down at her as if she was some nuisance. She felt…small. She felt like she was ten years old again and he was thirteen, giving her the cold shoulder for reasons she couldn’t understand. She still didn’t understand. Not entirely.

“I’m sorry you’ve _forgotten_ ,” his voice practically dripped with thinly veiled malice, “but I’m the head Cleric with Aunt Lissa and Uncle Libra gone. I think I can make decisions without the _Crowned Princess_ breathing down my neck and judging my every move,” He turned away from her, back to the ink that was now making a small pool of black on the floor, “Now, if you’d _excuse me_ , I need to finish cleaning _your mess_.”

Lucina wanted to scream. She almost did. But she knew this conversation was over. She didn’t _win_ anything and she felt worse than before she barged her way into the room. Yet she knew Masayuki. He wasn’t going to even _try_ to move any kind of conversation or argument along.

So she turned and left.

It would be better and more productive to take out her anger on the training dummies instead.

 

The training grounds are open to any knight at any time of the day. There were a set amount of training dummies made of old stray and magical reinforcements. Half of the time she’d be standing on the sidelines helping to instruct recruits but no one seemed to disturb her when she grabbed a wooden sword.

Her expression must have been a warning to stay away in itself.

She wasn’t sure how long she was there hacking away at training dummies. It was long enough that the sun raised high into the sky and beamed down on her, so she didn’t hesitate to strip off her shirt and put her hair up in a ponytail. It was long enough that she had already destroyed one training dummy and was on her way through the second. It was long enough that her body was beginning to scream and burn with the effort and force she had put into every single swing.

“Luci!”

She yelped, miscalculating the swing of her sword and the “blade” of the wooden sword landed awkwardly on the dummy’s body. Pain hit her wrist like a flash of lightning, and she was forced to drop it.

“Oh, sorry!”

Cynthia practically bounced up next to her and flashed her with an apologetic smile. Lucina’s anger had already mostly subsided. It left behind an exhausted pain that settled directly on her chest. She swallowed it down to force a smile.

“Hey Cynthia. Sorry, but I’m having a rough day. If you need to um…play- _be_ the…Warrior of Light, maybe you could talk to Owain?”

“Oh no, we’re planning to do that later! I wanted to talk to you about something else.”

She slowly picked up her sword, “…you wanted to talk to me? About what?”

Cynthia shifted on her feet and played with a lock of hair, “Um…I heard you yelling at Yuki.”

Oh _gods_ , no. Lucina groaned and rubbed her eyes with the pads of her fingers. Of anyone in the castle, Cynthia was the _last_ person she wanted to hear her blow up at their older half-brother. Even though Cynthia is next in line for the throne if Lucina ever decided she wanted to step down or if she lost her life, she hasn’t been _really_ forced into taking concubines, probably because she’s still 16. She wasn’t even sure if Cynthia really understood the drama that surrounds the concubines.

“…did you now?” She said slowly and tried to keep an air of calm. Though inwardly, she was screaming, “How much did you hear?”

Cynthia looked at her curiously before her lips formed into a mischievous smile, “You know, _sex_ isn’t a bad word even though _fuck_ is.”

Lucina flushed and sputtered, which seemed to be exactly what Cynthia was looking for since she freely laughed.

“Cynthia! That’s – you can’t _say_ that!” She practically hissed, as if their parents or – Naga forbid – _Uncle Frederick_ could overhear.

“Lucina, I’m not five anymore!” She pouted, which didn’t prove her point at all. She lowered her voice to a much more conspiratorial tone. Though it wasn’t as if anyone was paying attention to their conversation, “And the other Pegasus knights have said _much_ worse. Have you ever heard Aunt Cordelia when she thinks no one’s around? Severa definitely got her cursing streak it from her!”

Lucina could never imagine _Aunt Cordelia_ of all people cursing, but that wasn’t the point. She shook her head, trying to stave off her own blush and change the subject.

“ _Anyway_ , Cynthia don’t…worry about that conversation. That’s between me and Masayuki.”

“He hurt your feelings, didn’t he? He did something bad, right?” She prodded, “Do you want me to talk to him? He listens to me sometimes.”

She was right. He had an infuriating soft spot for Cynthia that baffled Lucina for _years_. He seemed to absolutely despise her but there were times when he would drop everything for Cynthia without a second thought.

For a moment she contemplated it, but she shook her head, “No, it’s fine. I’ll handle this.”

“Alright…” Cynthia looked skeptical, then went on, “So, what is this stuff I keep hearing about you getting a _new_ concubine? What’s wrong with Brady? Is he okay? You’re not getting _rid_ of him, are you?”

“What? No!” She quickly said, almost horrified Cynthia would think that. She’d _never_ do that to Brady even if she wasn’t interested in doing anything romantic or sexual between them. The message that would send to everyone and the _rumors_ could destroy his family for _years_. “I just – it’s a long story. The council got involved and decided I needed another one.”

“ _Jeez_ ,” she wrinkled her nose, “they’re so _stupid_ when Mother and Father are gone. So, are you going to see her?”

“I – what?”

“No one told you?” Cynthia frowned, “The guards brought her to the concubine wing an hour ago.”

Lucina just stared. They brought her an hour ago? Was she really so frightening as she trained that _no one_ tried to notify her?

Well, shit.

Without thinking, she started speed-walking toward the castle.

“Luci! Where are you going?!”

“I’m going to talk to her!” Lucina yelled over her shoulder before heading right to the concubine wing.

~

Robin was in a haze when the guards and Zelvester escorted her to the castle. For a couple times, she tried to find an escape but she was utterly and _completely_ surrounded. There was no way she could try to run again. Besides, she could tell quickly that the soldiers were diligently watching her after her escape attempt. Every time she thought she spotted a hole between them she could sprint through, it closed up just as fast as she found it. It was _frustrating_.

When they made it through the gates and Robin looked up at the Ylissean castle, she couldn’t help but bitterly note how beautiful her new cage would be.

The castle was larger than the Plegian castle, she could at least note that from the handful of times she had actually gone there. She had to crane her neck upwards to look at the highest tower. It seemed well kept and just the outside bustled with people – most likely servants – going about working. If there was one thing her father didn’t lie about when describing the war, it was how luxurious it was. Like they were flaunting their wealth.

As servants began to crane their heads to look between the soldiers to glance at her, her face began to burn. They all must _know_ she was brought here to be some kind of _sex toy_ for their Princess. They _must_ be snickering and wondering just how often her body would end up being used for their Princess’s pleasure.

Dear Grima, how embarrassing.

When they actually entered the castle, Lord Zelvester stopped them and waved off the soldiers until only he and two others were left with her. She noted with thinly veiled annoyance that one of the guards was the same that had grabbed her arm so tightly earlier. She filed it away to pay him back later.

“Take her to her new room. I’ll have her new servant sent to get her ready for Princess Lucina.”

Servant? She gets a _servant_?

She didn’t ask the question aloud even though she wanted to. As the guards began to move, she silently walked with them. At this point it would be better to comply and run later. Gaius’s advice echoed in her ears.

_“Never enter somewhere if you don’t have more than one way to sneak out.”_

_“Always remember the path to get to at least the front exit.”_

It was easy to remember _that_. She silently logged the directions in her head – a right, a left, up two sets of stairs, straight, another left…Gaius would be proud. She could already imagine his beaming grin and how he’d him reach over to ruffle her hair.

…she missed him already.

The guards stopped in front of a room, and when they opened it, Robin’s jaw couldn’t help but drop open.

The room was big enough to fit two of her old room and the bed was Queen sized. Though it was fairly bare, it had beautiful furniture – a loveseat, a mirror along with a place to sit and do makeup, and a closet. A door led to another room which she was pretty sure was a place to bathe. The only thing it was really missing for her was a bookcase. Though through a set of double doors was a _balcony_.

“This place can’t be _my_ new room,” She muttered.

The guards, on the other hand, didn’t seem all that impressed. The arm-grabber tapped her shoulder to get her attention. She nearly slapped his hand away.

“We’ll need you to surrender any weapons you have on you.”

“ _Excuse_ me?” She pulled her bag closer to herself. Her mind flashed to the tome settled on top of all of her things. The tome she’s had for as long as she could remember. The tome that _never_ left her side, “You can’t expect me to give that up!”

“Rules are rules,” The guard insisted and took a step closer. She instantly took a step back. She glanced behind him to the door but found that the other was standing in front of it, “Concubines are not allowed to keep weapons on them.”

“That’s fucking _bullshit_.” She almost wanted to try her luck with the balcony, but reminded herself that they were up two flights. Even with _Wind_ she’d probably splatter on the grass below. “Can’t you ignore it? I’m not going to use it!”

The guard raised an eyebrow at her.

She grimaced. Yeah, bad lie.

“Give your weapons. _Now_. Or I’ll have to use force.”

She tried again, “Wouldn’t the Princess be angry if you bruised me?”

The guard just glared, insistent. Robin made sure to remember this. She would double whatever revenge she came up with later. She glanced at the balcony again and weighed her options. But, of course, surviving won. She sighed and dug into her bag to take out the old, battered tome. She shoved in in the guard’s hands, though he still glared. Gods, she felt like a criminal being detained instead of a member of a _harem_.  

“ _What_?”

“ _All_ of your weapons.”

She swallowed a lump in her throat and scowled, “That’s it! I’m just a poor sorcerer from Plegia! All my other books in here are battered fiction novels! I’m pretty sure you don’t want to confiscate smutty romances. Unless that’s what you’re into.”

The guard kept his glare she realized it was probably time to pull out her last resort. She pouted her lips and looked up at the guard with a wide-eyed, pathetic expression. If she tried hard enough, she could probably even make it look like she was about to cry. “Please, sir, I’m being honest! Do you really want to look through all my personal items to find out if I have a knife or something? My bag is private! Please don’t look through my – my _delicate_ things!”

The guard had the decency to actually look embarrassed. He stepped back, probably panicking at the fact that she looked ready to cry. _So many men_ seemed to cave at that. It was hilarious. The other guard –thank Grima– took pity on her.

“Leave her alone, I don’t think we want to look through her…delicate items, as she put it, for some weapon that isn’t there. We’d only be embarrassing ourselves and her.”

“…fine.” The guard in front of her tucked her tome under his arm. She stared wistfully at it. She already wished it was back in her hands. “Your servant will be here in a minute to get you ready to meet the Princess. _Behave_.” And, with his companion, they finally left her alone.

Robin took a second to make sure the footsteps had actually disappeared down the hallway to place her bag on her new bed. She opened it and dug into the contents. To the side was a well-placed jagged dagger. It had an engraving that had been scratched out long ago. Another gift from her mother.

Robin snickered to herself and stuffed the knife under her pillow. If they were serious about the “no weapons” rule, she’d find a different, better hiding place later.

_Suckers._

She sat on her bed that was _far_ softer than she expected and let out a long sigh.

_What now?_

Gaius was who-knows-where and he’s probably going to come back to an empty room and people telling him that his _sister_ was chosen to be a concubine. Which means that he’ll have to cancel his plans and _won’t_ be able to take her to Valm. Didn’t he say it was hard to smuggle people right now? What if everything was _ruined_ because of this? And even if she escaped, she’d _never_ be able to get to Valm?  

Fucking perfect.

“Is this your way of punishing me?” She bitterly said as she ran a finger over an eye symbol on her robe. “If you can’t have me, you’ll send me into a thousand trials until you can finally have my life? Is that it?”

She wasn’t answered. She didn’t expect to be. Maybe Grima was looking down on her, laughing at her misfortune. He was probably weaving more misfortunes on her way and cackling as they all just lead to her gruesome, horrific death.

_This is what you deserve for being so selfish._

“Go fuck yourself,” she hissed into empty air.

Someone knocked and Robin tensed. Was it the Princess already? So soon?

 “…come in.”

The lock was fiddled with for a moment before the door was opened, revealing a boy who seemed maybe a few years or so younger than her gently holding a dress. He had chubby, rosy cheeks and wide brown eyes matched with messy light brown hair. His eyes widened even further when he saw her, probably over her being absolutely _covered_ in Grima symbols. She let her shoulders fall in relief. Not the princess, but the servant. When she raised an eyebrow, he flushed and quickly bowed his head respectfully. It was almost cute.

“Madam, I’m Ricken. I’ll be your personal servant.”

 _I expected a girl._ She nearly blurted aloud. Back in Plegia, she didn’t really have a _personal_ servant, only the actual few that were around the manor. Yet, she was pretty sure personal servants were supposed to do things like wake you up in the morning and get you dressed.

Ricken shifted on his feet for a second before he took quick steps towards her and placed the dress in his arms gently on the bed, next to her bag. She could see his eyes shift like he was tempted to peek in. Pointedly, she pulled her bag towards her.

He cleared his throat and his face flushed. “We’ll need to get you changed and washed up quickly before Princess Lucina comes by.”

Now that he was much closer, she let herself stay silent as she studied him. It wasn’t often that she was able to stretch the skills she learned from tactician books and Aversa’s sporadic teachings. Even if he was locked up, that didn’t mean she couldn’t work on it.

_“Just with a quick glace you can get a quick gist of an ally’s or enemy’s abilities. That way you don’t have to rely on magic to size everyone up all the time.”_

Her heart dropped as she thought of Aversa’s giggle and her own bewildered embarrassment at the time. She wondered if even a part of Aversa missed her.

She forced herself to focus on Ricken. He’s noticeably small, scrawny, and as far as she could tell he definitely wasn’t a very fast runner. Pale skin, so he probably spends most of his time inside. The sleeves of his white, button up shirt were rolled up and he wore thick gloves made especially for magic users. Peeking out under them were familiar-looking scars. Magic backlash scars.

So, her new servant seemed to be some kind of beginner mage. Wind mage, from the pattern of the scars.

“ _Madam,_ are you listening?”

Her eyes snapped up to his face. She was fairly sure he was actually _pouting._ She held back from reaching over and pinching his cheeks.

“Oh, um. Sorry.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and held back a scowl of annoyance when she remembered it was still loose over her shoulders. “What are we doing?”

“I’m going to fetch water for your bath,” He answered patiently, though she wouldn’t have blamed him if he was annoyed, “Please, it’ll be better if we get everything done quickly.”

“What if I don’t want to?” She tested, and couldn’t help a small smirk when Ricken’s eyes widened.

“Wha-What do you mean?”

“I never _asked_ for this.” She stood and crossed her arms. She was just under a head taller than him so she was able to seem maybe a little more intimidating, “I don’t even fully understand what was going on! I was just startled from my nap after a full _night_ of traveling, and I found myself in front of this _Lord_ who just _announced_ that I’m going to be your Princess’s _sex toy_ ,” she ignored of Ricken’s full-face flush at her words, “What the _fuck_ am I getting out of this except humiliation?”

He sputtered. Clearly he had to gather his thoughts. Did no one really argue against this at _all_ before her? “It’s a great honor to be chosen. And as long as the Princess likes you, you’ll be well cared for. And if you have family they’ll be given money to help them as well.”

“None of that sounds particularly amazing to me,” she huffed. What use was the Princess _liking_ her? And at this point her only family was Gaius and she was pretty sure he won’t be getting any money from this. Nor would he want to. “When the Princess comes, I’ll just demand for her to let me leave.”

“She doesn’t have the power to do that. Not…entirely. She’ll need to ask Lord Zelvester for approval, but he’ll probably just say no.”

Robin groaned. So there really was no escape. She fell back on the far-too-comfortable bed, though she would trade this bed for the stiff one in the inn any day if it meant getting back to Gaius and on her way to freedom.

“…Madam,” Ricken got her attention, “you said you were travelling all night, right? And that you were taking a nap before you were brought here?”

She glanced over at Ricken and nodded slowly. A part of her wondered _where_ he was going with this.

“Then can you at _least_ take a bath since you had a long night? Don’t you think warm water would help?”

Robin had the very precise feeling that she was being tricked or at least coaxed into doing what they all wanted her to do. _But_ the thought of warm water on her skin _was_ pretty tempting. Now that she was actually thinking about it, she felt grimy and covered in dirt.

Slowly, she sat up, “I… _guess_ it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick bath.”

That was exactly what Ricken wanted to hear. He _beamed_ in obvious relief.  

“Alright! Just wait a few minutes, I’ll fill your bath for you! Then I can help you get ready!” He ran off and Robin couldn’t help but chuckle.

At least he was a pretty amusing kid.

He was right. He didn’t take very long and he quickly filled the tub in the other room with steaming water. When it was completely full she immediately went in the room to strip. Ricken flushed and kept his gaze away from her.

“Um…do you want me to take your clothes to be washed?”

“Will I ever get to wear them again?”

He went silent.

She sighed.

“…my robe. It’s important to me so I guess it’ll be nice if that was kept clean.”

He nodded and took the folded robe before taking a step back to the door. “I’ll be outside if you need me, Madam.”

“Right – oh, by the way. You don’t have to call me Madam. You can just call me Robin.”

“…s-sure…Madam Robin.” And he closed the door behind him.

Robin snickered, starting to strip out of her travel clothes. It’s a work in progress, she supposed.

(In the tub, she let her mind wander. Her imagination ran wild, first to Gaius, who was bound to panic and, if he ever got her out of this, would never let her live it down. Then, to the Princess who she’s only heard terrible things about. What would she do to her once she came in the room? Hold her down? Force a kiss on her?

It was a good thing she kept her knife.)

 

When she got out of her bath she found her robe had been kept in sight, folded and placed on a table nearby. Though he moved her bag down to the floor. When she came out in the towel, he flushed _hard_ and kept his gaze off of her, instead onto the dress.

“How are you going to help me if you won’t even look at me?” She had asked teasingly before going to put on underwear.

“I-I should at least respect your privacy.”

Robin laughed.

The dress was two layers. The first was a _very_ small, skimpy white dress that had a very low V-neck. Ricken pointedly didn’t look at how the skirt began to ride up her hips as he helped with the lower part. He tied a black sash with golden designs over her waist, where the fabric fluttered out to become flowing sleeves. The dark red skirt flowed down to the floor with a slit to reveal one leg.

Then, Ricken brought her over to a mirror and began to braid her hair. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration and she nearly cooed at how cute it was.

“Can’t you just put my hair up in a ponytail?” She asked as her curly hair firmly refused to stay completely in the braid. He didn’t seem very bothered.

“Don’t you want to look pretty for the Princess, Madam?”

“Not specifically,” She stared in pure disinterest at her own reflection. She felt like some doll that was only there to look pretty; a doll to be placed on a shelf and inevitably forgotten. “I told you already that I didn’t choose this. I’m sure not all of the concubines the _Exalt_ has are specifically happy either, right?”

Ricken shifted, “I shouldn’t say—”

“Haven’t you _talked_ to the other concubines before?”

“A _few_ times. I’m not exactly in the position to talk to them a lot.”

Robin huffed. Figures. She could only imagine the concubines here. They were definitely all the Exalt’s. Sex slaves for his enjoyment, from what she could remember from things she read.

Speaking of, she could only remember reading about concubines in passing. Her father had mentioned them with blatant disgust, as he does with all things Ylissean, but hadn’t gone much into depth with it. Now she was wishing that of those research sprees she would have in their library that she had decided to dive deeper into Ylissean culture a bit more.

“So, just how long am I going to wait for the Princess to show up?”

“Not much longer. She should have been notified that you arrived already.”

She hummed, and it went silent. Ricken finished her hair and she stood to sit at the bed. She was used to being locked up in her room, waiting for things to be brought to her or when she’d be allowed out. Yet Ricken kept fidgeting around, practically trying to find things to clean. As she watched him re-fold her robe for what was probably the fifth time, she loudly sighed and beckoned him to sit next to her.

“Come on, you can talk to me since I don’t think the Princess is coming anytime soon.”

Ricken gave her a sheepish look and sat next to her, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why she isn’t here yet.”

“I honestly don’t really _want_ to meet her anyway.”

He shifted.

“So um…you don’t have concubines in Plegia?”

She scoffed, “Obviously not. Do you even know much about Plegia?”

By his flush, she figured that was a _no_. Not that she was surprised. It’s been a very long time since Plegia and Ylisse held more than a few years of peace between each other. And now it was still rocky, like two people who talk yet don’t know what to make of each other after a long argument. She wondered if she should change the subject, but Ricken’s eyes practically gleamed as he stared at her. She sighed.

“Alright, well, Plegia is _far_ hotter than here…”

(She sat describing Plegia to the wide-eyed servant in front of her, carefully avoiding things like religion and the structure of royalty. She tried her best to stick to the warm days, the bustling market place, the liveliness of _magic,_ the cold nights and huddling together, the ruins that always seemed to tell a story deep in the desert.

With every word, she found herself missing the place she ran from even more.

She wondered if Valm had a desert she could live in.)

 

It was near an hour before there was a knock on the door, and Ricken immediately bolted to stand. Robin, scowling, firmly stayed sitting down even though Ricken gave her a look like she should stand as well.

He opened the door and revealed a woman around twenty years old. At first, Robin felt her shoulders start to drop as she wondered whether this was _actually_ the princess. She wore a simple bra made for training and leggings with boots. Basically, she just looked like a soldier who had just come from training. Then, she noticed the long blue hair which had been messily pulled back into a high ponytail and her bright blue eyes.

The left was discolored.

 _“The brand discolored the Princess’s eye. Perhaps their goddess was acting in cruelty.”_ A voice that sounded suspiciously like her father’s whispered in her ear.

Ricken gave her a respectful bow. Robin kept herself rooted to the bed.

“Ricken,” she gave him a fond smile as she nodded to him before stepping into the room. Now, she had her mismatched eyes on Robin.

And once again Robin reminded herself of the knife she kept tucked under the pillow less than a foot away from her.

The Princess walked closer and stopped when she was just an arm’s distance away. Robin felt as though she was holding her breath. All the fight from earlier had suddenly escaped her. Ricken still stood by the door the he had closed. He seemed just as tense as she was.

“You’re…my new concubine, right?” The Princess said slowly. Her eyes were still locked on her. They didn’t _disgust_ her like Zelvester’s did. Admittedly, they were far warmer than the cool color would suggest. Yet she still felt _uncomfortable_. The wish to cut them out of her head started to surface.

After all, if she didn’t have even a bit of bad intentions, why did she come to her _shirtless_?

“…I am,” her voice came out softer than the harshness she wanted it to. She cleared her throat and repeated, firmly, “I _am_ ,” She tried to summon back the rebellion from earlier, “And, by the way, I think all of this is _bullshit_.”

“Madam Robin!” Ricken gasped, as The Princess’s mouth dropped open.

“Ex- _Excuse_ me?”

“You heard me.” She had nothing to lose. And as far as she knew, she couldn’t lose her head for cursing out the Princess in Ylisse as quickly as you would in Plegia. “I didn’t _ask_ to be a sex toy or to be used for some _spoiled_ Princess’s pleasure. I never _asked_ to have my life suddenly upended to suit _your_ needs. So, _sorry_ , but I’m not going to play this game of yours,” She made sure to say “game” as bitterly as she could, near spitting the word at her.

“Y-You…” The Princess opened and closed her mouth, and slowly a flush rose to her cheeks. She looked enough like a fish that Robin couldn’t help but be pleased with herself. This must have been the first time she had been cursed out like this. “There’s…there’s a misunderstanding—”

“I think I understand just fine.” She tried to mimic Aversa’s coldness and glared her down. “Just know as long as I’m here I will _never_ let you touch me.”

There was pure, tense silence. Ricken looked like he was ready to almost scream. The Princess stared at her with such wide eyes, Robin almost thought they would pop out of her head.

“…I see,” the Princess finally said, straightening herself. “I’ll...leave you alone then. And let you get…comfortable.”

“I’m pretty sure I won’t.”

The Princess hesitated another moment. She seemed like she wanted to say something but stopped herself. Instead she turned and left. Ricken closed the door behind her and quickly ran to her side.

“What were you _thinking_?! You – you were so rude to the _Princess_!”

“I know.” She felt lighter somehow, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. “Now she knows where I stand.”

“You’re _crazy_.” Ricken shook his head. “What will you do if you _are_ actually kicked out?”

“Go back to my traveling,” she shrugged while picking at her skirt. “Back to my life. Away from here.”

(She promised herself, if she ever found a way to get out of this, she’d run from Ylisse. As far as she could go. As long as she could go. She’d never look back.)

~

When Lucina had walked into the room, she was in awe at the beautiful woman they had managed to find. She found herself baffled that they _actually_ managed to find not only a beautiful woman, but a Plegian as well. Plegians don’t come by Ylisse very often for obvious reasons, so perhaps it was no wonder they had brought her one.

Then she started yelling at her. She ripped into her like a cornered animal. Through it all, Lucina could clearly see that she was tense and maybe a little scared. Lucina was bewildered but she also felt _angry_ for her. _Angry_ that she didn’t really have the power to stop this, despite being the _Princess_. _Angry_ that this poor girl was brought to her because Masayuki and Lord Zelvester couldn’t keep everything to themselves.

She was tired. So tired. It felt like her body would melt from the exhaustion she carried and how much _emotion_ she felt. The guilt had gnawed on her bones and broken her down to the smallest it could.

Despite her guilt, her anger, her _want_ to show her kindness, she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t deal with the entire day anymore. There was really only so much she could take.

A glance out the window told her that the sun was descending in the sky and it would nearly be time for dinner. Meaning she’d have to sit in the dining hall, again without her parents, and with the concubines and her siblings. _Robin_ would no doubt be unhappy throughout the whole dinner. Perhaps she’d be bold enough to curse her once again. And _Masayuki_ would just pointedly be cold towards her.  

Her mind was already made up. Without much hesitation, she stopped a servant and told them to have the Chef send her dinner to her room and inform her family she’ll be going to bed early.

 

Her room was always her primary safe haven. When she finally closed the door behind her she already felt the tension start to melt away. She let out a long winded sigh, kicked off her boots, and nearly threw off her clothes to grab a different set to wear. No one could really judge her – she _did_ actually plan to sleep after she finished eating.

It didn’t take long before there was a knock.

“Come in.”

She expected a random servant, or maybe the same servant that she had stopped in the hallway earlier. She _didn’t_ expect Severa to be standing there holding a tray with her food and drink.

“Severa?” She stood as Severa gave her a small smile and placed the tray down on her table.

“Hey, I heard you weren’t feeling well so I made absolutely sure the Chef got all your favorites,” she winked at her. Lucina smiled fondly.

“Thanks. You wouldn’t _believe_ the day I had,” She went to her food. The delicious aroma of well-cooked duck with bread, some vegetables and with a side of what seemed to be a spicy broth by the slight red color.

“I can guess.” Severa sat as she began to dig in, “the servants have _already_ been talking. I walked into the kitchen to hear the ‘juicy’ gossip about your new _concubine_ ,” She said “concubine” with an air of almost venomous disgust. Lucina decided faintly that she must be angry at the fact that a concubine was forced on her in the first place.  

Lucina sighed and dipped her bread in the broth, “Already?” She tried to imagine Robin dealing with gossiping, giggling servants around her during dinner, surrounded by strangers and decided to push it away. It only made her chest pang with guilt even more than earlier. She had retreated to her room to _run_ from it, not let it fester.

Yet, it wasn’t in her nature. She hesitated and chewed her bread slowly. Finally, she spoke up.

“Severa, can I ask you a question?”

“What?”

“My new…concubine. She’s angry with me and…I don’t know what to do.”

Immediately, Lucina could see Severa’s whole body tense up, and her eyes widen like she was in front of a mage aiming _Lightning_ at her. Lucina cursed herself. She shouldn’t have said anything. Severa was oddly uncomfortable about _anything_ to do with the concubine drama. For _months_ after Brady was brought to the castle, she had avoided him and escaped any conversation about him. She suddenly began talking to him one day, but still tenses slightly at the mention of him.

“I don’t know,” she spoke stiffly, like someone was moving her lips for her.

“…yeah, I figured,” She sighed.

Severa grimaced, then spoke slowly, “You can’t just… _kick her out_ if she’s not happy here?”

“I can’t.”

Severa raised an eyebrow, “You’re the princess.”

Oh, right. Severa probably wouldn’t _know_ because she avoids talk about concubines like the plague.

“I am, but it’s a council thing,” She waved a hand, “When it comes to concubines, the member in charge of the concubines – Lord Zelvester - has to decide to let them go. And he was pretty eager to shove her at me.”

“Then ignore her,” She offered, “if she hates it so much she can’t complain at that.”

“That would just be cruel,” Lucina could feel a headache coming on as Severa frowned at her, “I would be abandoning her amongst strangers. She’d just hate me more, don’t you think?”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

She didn’t actually expect much from her with _this_ topic so she decided just to let it slide. She wasn’t entirely in the mood to think about it either. She’d find someone else to ask tomorrow.  

They sat in comfortable silence as she ate and when she was done, Severa immediately picked up the tray.

“Go rest. You need it, after all this shit,” She patted her back and hesitated for a moment before she continued, “Everything will be better in the morning. I’m sure of it.”

“Right…right.” Lucina muttered to mostly herself as Severa left. Now, with her stomach full, exhaustion had fully set in. She practically dove into bed and blew out her candle.

The moment she closed her eyes, she could visibly remember Robin’s angry scowl. Her flaming, amber eyes and how stubbornly she stared her down. Things became strange and blurry as Robin’s face morphed. She opened her mouth, to scream at her in anger. Claws began to rip into her skin to take and take.

She could vaguely make out Lord Zelvester and Masayuki standing over her. And they watched with matching, pleased smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my. Poor Lucina. Poor Robin.   
> And yes, servant Ricken which will definitely be explained why that is later on.   
> And, remember, if you'd like to follow me, I'll be usually semi-coherently rambling on twitter @pandoraabx

**Author's Note:**

> Girls. Overarching plots where multiple things and people are influencing everything. Stress. Staying up until 2 am to write a chapter and then knock out to edit it for two days. What more can I ever want? 
> 
> Yeah but this is gonna be a...trip. A huge one. Hopefully one that I can deliver.
> 
> Btw if you wanna see me try to ramble or be dead silent for weeks you can follow me on twitter @pandoraabx. Since I've pretty much abandoned my tumblr I can be found there


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